


Taste the Flesh

by SamoanSexGodReigns



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Biting, Do not post to another site, F/F, Kayfabe Compliant, Masturbation, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22807582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamoanSexGodReigns/pseuds/SamoanSexGodReigns
Summary: Becky tries to process Shayna's attack and the conflicting emotions it stirred within her.
Relationships: Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Shayna Baszler, Shayna Baszler/Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	Taste the Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Raw 2/10/20

It’s late, so late, it could almost be considered _early_ , and Becky hasn’t slept a wink. She’s too restless to even try. Instead, she’s spent the night replaying every second of Shayna’s assault, over and over again in her mind like a bitter reminder. She can still feel the shock of pain and surprise that filled her with Shayna’s first strike and the flurry of punches that followed. Can still feel the heavy iron of Shayna’s arm tight around her throat as she gasps for breath before being slammed to the mat. Can still feel the sharp, tearing ache of Shayna’s teeth sinking into the back of her neck as she screams and writhes helplessly in the ring.

Oh, she played her part, and she played it well. She went to the hospital for antibiotics and a tetanus booster then came back passionate and pissed without hesitation to cut a promo that put Shayna and everyone else on notice. And Becky _was_ pissed. Pissed that Shayna thought she could just get away with her attack, pissed that Shayna had once again gotten the better of her, pissed that Shayna made a fool of her _again_. 

But the longer she analyzes the footage in her head, the more her anger morphs into something unsettling and confusing as Becky realizes – she _enjoyed_ it. 

Not the punching and the choking, that was just your standard wrestling affair, but something happened when Shayna grabbed Becky by the hair and exposed her neck. It was like her body went on high-alert, everything slowed-down and became magnified as every adrenaline-soaked synapse and cell was brought into intense focus. The roar of the crowd became distant and distorted, unimportant now, and all she could hear was the thudding of her own heart and the rush of blood in her ears. Shayna’s hands were hot like a brand against Becky’s skin, where they seared the shape of finger and palm into a mark of permanent possession. Her spine went stiff, and her limbs went numb, and she blindly grasped Shayna’s hand like an anchor, and then Shayna’s teeth were on her neck. Her breath spread warm and tingling over Becky’s flesh as she bit down harder and harder, and Becky thrashed and shivered as the agony turned to arousal in front of 2.3 million people. 

Even now, her body still simmers with erotic energy, and it bubbles bright and constant in her veins no matter how she tries to ignore it. Every shift of her body tugs at the wound, and the sweet sting that accompanies each movement thrills and sparks through her muscles like an electric glow. She fiddles with the curling edges of the bandage and picks at the adhesive tape, and her blood heats until she’s flushed and feverish, and by dawn, she’s peeled the cotton dressing away entirely. She traces the laceration with light fingertips, the twelve near-perfect indentations from Shayna’s teeth, and the slightly torn edges of the gash, and it zings along her nerve endings until Becky _burns_. 

Unable to take it anymore, she slips her free hand into her shorts and sighs with relief when she finally touches her clit. She keeps her other hand on her neck, exploring the cut and sending pleasure straight to her pussy with every prickle of soreness. She closes her eyes and paints an image of Shayna on her eyelids as she continues to rub and roll her clit beneath sure fingers. She pictures Shayna’s fierce obsidian eyes, and her cocky smirk and imagines the rough texture of Shayna’s hands on her skin. She fantasizes about the earthy musk of Shayna’s sweat and the coppery tang of blood and the frazzled delight of Shayna’s nipping teeth. She envisions other bite marks across her collarbone, and her breasts and her thighs and her stomach twists as the illusion takes her closer and closer to climax. She visualizes Shayna’s predatory smile dripping ruby red across her lips and down her chin and into the cleft between her tits and then Becky’s erupting in a shimmering shower of bliss as her pelvis pulses with her release. 

She’s still twitching with sticky slick fingers against her clit when the alarm on her phone signals seven a.m. and Becky groans in exhaustion. It’s gonna be a long fucking day.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song Flesh by Simon Curtis, and as you can see, I am totally invested in this angle. If only for purely selfish reasons ;D


End file.
